Aviator 

There was once a man, who found solace in words. Words true and false alike. He believed them so truly, that changing a word left him breathless. As beautiful as the violins on an orchestra symphony, as fragile as the wrong note of a dedicated song from one lover to another, he was that human being. A mirror ageless, reflecting all that was thrown at him, absorbing only the pure light of beings, he grew into a superseded consciousness. Undoubtedly faulty from core, still patching things up left, right and centre. He was the flyer, the one in love with the open skies, looping around in his airplane every chance he had. You can chance upon his widest grin as he comes at high speed towards the ground, making you taste blood on your tongue, and pulls up at the nth moment and you see the polluted trail of his plane’s exhaust. The madness of all the fascination, infatuation and pure love you’d feel ever was all for him on his fingertips, slowly lacing around his being letting him know you’re the one standing your ground, while he tries to make up your mind to fly away with him. Maybe you won’t be ready unless you sit next to him, headphones over your head, talking aviation lingo. But what the hell, it’s only the seat in a machine flying 10,000 feet in the sky, slowly inching higher. Again, what the hell, why would you need to worry about anything when you and him decided to build a home in the skies. Why the worry when he caught you every time you fell with a light snap of his fingers. When you both reach the zenith in the skies, he pulls his sunglasses down, the ones which have been shining golden in the morning sun, looks at you and you eventually melt away. Melt in that wonderful sunshine of a gaze, looking at your being, recognising you as the soul you are, not for your face, body or work. You don’t need food, you have this man. The one that completes your sentences, your happiness and sadness alike, the one who holds you up, opens your wings and takes you flying. As you stand as a third person looking at how much of beauty lies within the aviator you chose as a partner, you know why no one else had it working with you. His words make you believe in the immensity of the universe that makes you up, his touch changes your perception of time, space and love. As Interstellar put it correctly, it was love all along, not the 5D beings. We rise in love, we become the aliens that we are afraid of. 

He is the kind that stokes a fire he lit within yourself. Truly know, he is your home, on land, in air and within soul. 

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